Night Terrors
by G66XD66
Summary: Normality is a distant dream in the prison of Taruru's mind. (Contains mild gore and rare use of bad language)
1. Chapter 1

"I saw the mannequins again"

Pururu wasn't looking at Taruru when he entered the room, but she stood and turned at the statement.

"There was one extra. Just like the night before"

The nurse frowned in thought, but said nothing.

"They were closer to the bed than usual"

Pururu's frown deepened. Taruru had been having this same hallucination every time he woke up for four and a half months now, and in recent weeks they had been getting more and more disturbing. Pururu couldn't quite work out why these dreams tormented him so; or what caused them.

"You've been taking the pills I gave you…?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

"Yeah"

Pururu sat down again and put her head in her hands.

"I don't know, Taruru. I'm not sure what else there is to try. The REM scan showed nothing. I just don't understand" She sighed and looked back to Taruru.

"All I can suggest is that, just for tonight, you should stop with the tablets. Just to see what happens"

Taruru nodded and left the room, looking as relaxed as usual. Daytimes were a relief from the dreams, after all.

* * *

Re-entering his room, he simply stood at the door and surveyed it for a while. He did this every day, knowing that there would obviously be no sign of the mannequins that plagued his dreams. Their ship was far out in space, and it's not like there were any-

But then why, this time, were light pressure marks visible on the floor?

They were dotted all over his carpet, he noticed, exactly where the figures had been in his most recent dream.

He'd left his room straight away and locked it, this morning. No one had been in here. Only Zoruru could break in, and he'd been in Tororo's room all night while the tadpole worked on some major damages from a recent battle.

He crouched and looked at the imprints. They were similar to the marks a table would leave in a carpet after long periods without being moved. But they weren't there when he left his room this morning – that was the other time he checked his entire room.

"This carpet is old" Taruru told himself aloud, before pushing them out of his mind and getting on with his day, remembering not to take his tablets before bed that night.

* * *

Surveying the carpet one more time before bed, he found that the marks had disappeared.

"It's my mind playing tricks. I have to stop thinking about them, and then the 'evidence' will go" He told himself, getting into the right mind set to get to sleep. He was going to bed slightly early, so the lights from the halls of the base would still be on while he tried to sleep.

Snuggling into the extra pillows he'd nabbed from Tororo's room, he was reminded of his mother, and how warm she felt when she cuddled him when he was small. This thought relaxed him, and he closed his eyes.

'God dammit, I forgot to switch off my room light' he cursed internally, sitting up. But when he opened his eyes, the lights were already off.

He sat there for a while, allowing his eyes to adjust. He must have switched it off after all, but how could he not have noticed. He closed his eyes and was about to lie back down when he thought to himself; 'Why didn't I see the hall light through my door?' opening his eyes again he tried hard not to scream at the blank, plastic face just inches from his own.

He was asleep, then. He had to be. This was the dream. Only this time, his room was almost invisible through the sea of hollow, hard shells in the shape of Keronians. He tried to control the tears welling in his eyes so that he could see properly, and shakily slipping through the cold maze of stiff figures and get to his door.

Opening it, zipping outside and closing it, he let out a cut off sob. That was the most real that dream had felt before. He had to wake up, he had to-

After what felt like a blink, he found himself on the floor outside his room, curled up. Perhaps he really was awake now. Had he really sleepwalked out of his room?

Tasting salt, he touched his face, and felt warm tears rolling down them. These hallucinations were becoming too much. He needed to request a sick leave.

Swaggering sleepily through the dimly lit halls, he spied the time on a nearby clock.

He'd only been out for ten minutes?

Ignoring this, he moved through the halls, which he didn't seem to recognise properly in his tired state in an effort to find either Pururu or Garuru. There was a long stretch of corridor that felt even longer than the ship itself, with almost no doors along it, it seemed. Assuming he was probably in the wrong part of the ship, he turned to see the hall that led to his bedroom door only inches behind him.

Had he passed out again? He rubbed his eyes and focussed on keeping them open as he went down the other hall, taking the familiar door to the branching hallway leading to Tororo's room. Maybe he'd pop in and ask if Tororo would come with him, just to make sure he didn't pass out again on the way there.

Approaching the door, he brushed off the fact that it opened by itself as just a breeze. The halls were rather cold tonight, it seemed.

He was surprised to find Tororo alone. He was sat on the floor tinkering with something, but it didn't look related to Zoruru's cybernetics.

"Tororo" He said so quietly it was almost a whisper. He must have been subconsciously afraid of the empty halls he had just walked through.

"Flecks" Came the tired response as the salmon tadpole turned to face the visitor, his glasses, though well lit, looked unusually dim and foggy.

"Where's Zoruru?" Taruru asked instinctively, not really caring that much and just wanting to get on with filing his request.

"Gone"

"Um… okay. Tororo, if you're purposely trying to creep me out, that is NOT cool, dude"

Tororo looked at him incredulously before leaning back a bit and sighing.

"What do you want, Taruru?" He said. He sounded very tired, despite the fact that being up till the early hours of the morning was commonplace for him.

"I need you to come with me while I find the boss to ask him for sick leave. I keep passing out and I could really use some help staying conscious"

"Why do you need sick leave?"

Taruru stared at him with a raised brow. The tone Tororo used was light, indicating that he actually wanted to know. But why would it bother him that much?

"It's the dreams, they're-"

Taruru was interrupted by a hand gesture from the tadpole before him.

"You're still letting the dreams get to you? If you took it off, every once in a while, it'd be fixed" He said, pointing to his head. Taruru absently took one of his hat flaps in his hand. How would taking off his hat help with anything? He was starting to believe that Tororo's fatigue was effecting his judgement.

"My… hat?" He asked, to point out how strange he thought the suggestion. Tororo gave an exaggerated look of exasperation.

"Your head, you idiot" He said, as though it was obvious. What kind of weird figure of speech was that? Maybe Tororo had one mixed up again.

"Interesting idea" Taruru said, sarcastically, prompting a disgruntled huff from the tadpole before him. The salmon hacker seemed to rest his head in his hands, only his hands were in a weird position so that his fingers were below his jaw rather than his palms. Taruru was reminded just how peculiar Tororo was.

"You're so simple, Taruru" Tororo said quietly, before digging his fingers into his jaw. Taruru simply watched in bewilderment, unsure whether Tororo thought he was being funny. That was, until, a muffled, wet tear was audible.

The blue frog stood deathly still, trying to work out where the sound had come from. He didn't even voice his concerns about the viscous, white liquid trailing from the bases of Tororo's fingers.

More tearing, and then a sudden chorus of snapping bones. Taruru was unable to move as Tororo's head broke contact with his shoulders, shards of spinal cord drifting down the streams of the foul smelling gel that was now erupting from the wound like blood.

"Tororo this isn't fucking funny" Taruru warned, his voice gaining volume. Tororo was jerking around, he just knew it.

He was still frozen to the spot, even as the last of the liquid was purged from the tadpole's decapitated body, soaking, almost _burning_ into the carpet.

"T-Tororo?" He breathed quietly, uncertain, as he managed to move himself towards his friend. He shakily picked up his glasses, which had fallen to the floor during the horrific scene, and reluctantly turned towards where the head landed.

Empty eye sockets seemed a reasonable explanation for the foggy glasses.

Trying to control his breathing and keep his eyes dry enough to see, Taruru stumbled clumsily from the room and shut the door behind him, leaning against and letting out shaky, violent sobs. He remained there until he was calm enough to move on.

As he continued his trek, he questioned his subconscious. Why was it showing him all these things out of the blue? He couldn't quite put his finger on what could have possibly triggered it. He was an unaffected young man most of the time… maybe he'd seen something in his peripheral at some point that hadn't registered until just now. But he was sure he would have remembered something that grotesque and horrific – he wasn't _that_ dim.

A sudden shudder down his spine, and everything went black.

* * *

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he sat up. It was his room, warmly lit by the light of the rising sun through his curtains. He breathed and incredibly heavy sigh. He'd HAVE to tell Pururu about that one.

Groggily heaving himself out of bed, he rubbed his eyes and stretched, revelling in the usual emptiness of the air around his bed – no mannequins. Well, except for the oddly familiar looking one in the corner by the closet, but he didn't particularly notice that.

Leaving his room and taking a deep breath, he made his way down the hall leading to Pururu's office. He noted that there was a wall on the way there that seemed blank, but he couldn't work out why. He shook his sleepy head – he had enough on his plate without his mind playing tricks on him while he was conscious.

Knocking quietly first, Taruru entered the room. Pururu was jotting something in her notebook, but turned when she heard the first class private enter the room.

"Anything to report about your dreams, Taruru?" She asked gently, a precaution encase he's had a horrible vision. Taruru nodded at her.

"Yeah. It was way different this time, because Tororo was in it, and that hasn't-"

"Tororo?"

"Yeah… I went to find him in his lab to ask him to-"

"Where were you in this dream?"

Taruru paused and looked at Pururu. She had her eyebrows furrowed. Did this mean she's worked something out?

"You know, the ship. Like usual. I just made my way to his room, hoping Zoruru might be with him too. You know, as an extra escort to the boss's office"

Pururu watched Taruru for a moment.

"Why did this 'Tororo' have a room in our ship? Did that not stand out as peculiar to you in the dream?"

Now it was Taruru's turn to observe Pururu for a moment. What did she mean by that? Pururu saw his expression and attempted to elaborate.

"You know… did it not occur to you in the dream that whoever Tororo is doesn't reside here?"

"Pururu what on Keron are you on about?" Taruru asked, trying as hard as possible to stay calm. There was a tense pause in which the two stared each other down before Taruru spoke again.

"I'm talking about _our_ Tororo. You know, the buck private? The fifth member? You know!"

Pururu watched him as he babbled, growing more and more confused by the minute.

"Taruru, you _know_ there's only ever been four of us in the platoon. Do you still need time to wake up?"

Taruru frowned deeply, and turned suddenly to look out of the door and into the hallway. So that wall _had_ looked blank – the door to Tororo's room was supposed to be there.

"Pururu stop this. Tororo's been in the platoon for as long as I have and you know it! How could you have forgotten him? How else could we have gotten past so many cyber defences on our missions?"

"Taruru, I think you need more sleep-"

"Pururu, I'm telling the truth!"

Taruru's gaze upon Pururu gradually became more horrified, before he left the room in a mad panic.

"Zoruru! Zoruru where are you?!" He yelled as he ran, hoping to god that he'd make some sense.

"What do you want, Private" The assassin spoke in his usually gritty tone as he landed almost silently behind the panicking frog.

"Pururu – she's forgotten about Tororo! Talk some sense into her, Zoruru!"

Zoruru tilted his head in a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"What the heck are you talking about, now?" He asked.

"I went to Pururu's office this morning and told her about my newest dream. It had Tororo in it, but when I told her she said there's only four of us in the platoon or something" Taruru explained again, slower and more calmly than before. His face fell even further when he noted Zoruru's expression.

"You really are sleep deprived, huh? To think your imaginary friend or whatever is in this platoon…?"

Taruru blanched.

"You liar"

Zoruru stared blankly forward as usual, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"Tororo is your _best friend_, how can you not remember him?"

"Taruru, I've never heard that name before, I don't what you're talking about. You _need_ more sleep. I'm not going to hang back and drag you around during missions" Zoruru finished before shooting back up into the roof of the ship, leaving Taruru alone. The blue frog shook slightly as he backed to the wall, slowly sliding down it. Had he really had a dream so vivid that he'd invented a whole new person and genuinely believed he existed? It couldn't be. He had too many memories of him. Or had this mystery tadpole been in his dreams before?

Taruru clutched his head in confusion, before remembering his previous dream and whipping them down to sit on them. This was so confusing, he was almost certain that he had a dorky friend who was part of the platoon he was in. He was the one to fix up Zoruru, and argue with that yellow dude in the Keroro platoon. He'd even play games with him, if the scientist was bored enough to comply.

"I'm going to bed" he whispered to himself quietly, slowly getting to his feet and shuffling back towards his room. He needed to have a proper sleep for once. It would clear his head, and stop his brain from concocting any more 'imaginary friends'. These figments of his imagination were taking over, and he realised now that it may even be affecting his perception of reality itself…

**A/N**

**OKAY, this was weird as hell to write. I don't know what compelled me to attempt to write a horror fic, and a CHAPTER one at that (it was going to be just one whole story, but this section itself is around 3000 words long alone). I'm actually not a fan of horror in the slightest, but recently I've developed a kind of morbid interest in horror stories, such as creepy pastas (the ones that are actually scary XD) and (one of my main obsessions) the SCP Foundation. I've also had a go at several indie horror games, most of them pixelated, because I'd much rather visualise it internally rather than see a realistic portrayal (the version of horror I hate)**

**So, just as a note, this story could end up being SUPER bad, since one, my fiction isn't really immersive at all, and two, I just blatantly have NO experience in this genre at all. Still, I'm gonna attempt to complete this (as well as the other things I need to finish, AND preparing to apply for my cartooning degree course…bnidpofbkjvx**

**ANYWAY, I hope you like. This A/N is getting too long.**


	2. Chapter 2

Taruru stood within his room for four straight minutes while he looked around. He was so, so tired, but way too scared to actually go to bed and let sleep claim him again, for fear of what his subconscious would show him this time. Moving slowly to drag out the process, he moved over to his bed, sat on it, and then turned to his music player, which was between his headboard and the wall. There was a modest stack of CDs by the side of it, containing a whole array of genres. Considering carefully, he decided on a quiet indie album that would hopefully lull him into a dreamless sleep.

Setting it in the player, he lay on top of the covers, in no way intending to turn out the light in his room and simply stared at the ceiling, drinking in the calming sounds of the band that was playing, some soft saxophone joining the chorus, actually doing well to relax him, and he really felt as though he was going to drift off for a moment. He lay in this stupor for about twenty minutes, before realising that track five hadn't started, and track four ended five minutes ago.

Out of curiosity, he sat up and turned to the player, which only had a tiny digital screen. The screen was made up of little red LEDs, and at this moment in time, they were all on at once. Obviously a malfunction.

Taruru reached down to unplug the device before he heard something.

"Wait!"

Taruru sat bolt upright and looked around. Who had said that? The voice was familiar…

"Taruru, it's me!"

Taruru glanced at his CD player. He noted the disk was still spinning through the transparent plastic lid.

"Please say you can hear me"

Taruru shook his head slightly; not wanting to even question what he knew was happening. He was just told that Tororo never existed. How could his voice be coming out of the player's speakers?

"Tororo?"

"Yes, it's me"

Taruru swallowed. Tororo's tone sounded grave, and a little scared. He didn't know what to say, what to ask, whether or not this was a dream, or a hallucination… he didn't know anything anymore.

"Taruru you have to stay out of your room"

The blue frog observed the CD player, not moving or talking. Did Tororo know something about his dreams, and what the hell was happening at this moment?

"It's not safe, you have to leave"

"What do you mean?"

Taruru detected a tiny, almost inaudible hitch of breath from the player's speakers. He waited in agonising silence for what must have been at least a few solid minutes before he got another response.

"Leave now. Move slowly. Do NOT turn around" was the tiniest whisper Taruru heard from his speakers.

"Tororo…" Taruru responded just as quietly, tilting he head a little to the right.

"Taruru please don't turn around"

Turning to look back at the player for a moment, Taruru was frozen to the spot. What the hell should he do? His CD player wasn't portable, and if he unplugged it to take it with him, there was no guarantee that Tororo would somehow still be in it.

Also, he didn't like the tone Tororo used with his instructions. What exactly was behind him…?

Whipping his head round without a warning, Taruru screamed at the plastic face just before his own. He collapsed onto his bed and backed to the wall, skating violently, while he took in the appearance of the thing that had been _right behind him_.

It looked like another mannequin, but it had a much more organic feel to it. Taruru could tell it was still made from cheap plastic, but it felt as though it had a real presence. It was bent over in a way that meant it would have been hovering over Taruru so close that they were almost touching. It had its head tilted in a curious way that made it look as though it was listening in on something. But probably the most unnerving thing about it was that it was painted in a rather realistic manner to resemble Tororo almost exactly, the only difference being that it didn't seem to have any facial features; although the glasses propped on its face may well have been hiding eyes. It was also wearing the baseball helmet that Tororo always wore.

Taruru moved his lips in order to form a question, but no sounds left his mouth.

"I told y-you not to looooooooooook" Came the minor scold from the CD player, which was now overheating as though angry, causing a few odd distortions in Tororo's voice. Taruru didn't make another sound as he briskly slid along the wall, not taking his eyes off the mannequin for one second, trying as hard as possible not to blink, until he was _definitely_ outside his room.

Taruru choked slightly, tears forming and cascading down his cheeks again. Just what the hell was happening to him and why wouldn't it stop? Was this some kind of elaborate set up? Or was he truly losing his mind? Taking a few deep breathes; he waited to regain his composure before thinking about the next course of action to be taken. He was most _definitely_ not going back into his bedroom. He'd gotten the point. But he didn't know what else to do. He briefly thought of returning to Pururu, but that thought was quickly banished. This was clearly something beyond Pururu's control. He would have to find his leader for this.

Turning to face the direction in the hall that would take him to Garuru's office, he set off walking, hugely relieved that the corridor was no longer never ending like it had been in his dream. The relief was short lived however; as he found that he couldn't stop outside of the door. He just couldn't. Even if he took the tiniest step forward he would somehow pass it, and even standing right by where the door was and reaching with his arm, the handle just seemed to be out of reach, despite the blatant closeness of it. He continued this fruitless task for a good ten minutes before giving up and trying another method.

"Boss? You in there? It's an emergency!"

He waited, and was met with only silence. Putting his head to the wall to listen, he couldn't detect any movement whatsoever. He waited a while, hoping that he would eventually hear something, but decided to eventually stop when the only thing to greet his ear drums was a slow, steady heartbeat gradually increasing in volume. He could only conclude that it was his _own_ heart he was hearing – the silence was so prominent now that he could hear even the tiniest of sounds. Sighing heavily, he turned again, and passed his room in the other direction. He kept walking until he eventually bumped into Zoruru again; the cyborg leaning solemnly against a wall, looking as though he may have been meditating.

"Have you seen Garuru?" Taruru asked simply. Zoruru glanced his way before answering.

"In his office like always, didn't you check?"

"I can't get in"

Zoruru rolled his single eye and gave an exasperated sigh.

"There isn't a lock on his door. Didn't you knock or something?"

"I _couldn't_ knock"

Zoruru frowned, and Taruru could tell this wasn't worth the effort.

"Look, forget it. Maybe you could tell him I'm leaving, I _need_ to get out of here"

Zoruru relaxed a little and nodded slightly, showing he understood, before shooting off. Taruru continued down the hall, towards the room containing the different escape pods that could be used as a means of transporting a single member away from the ship. When he approached it, however, it seemed that the door wouldn't budge. Inspecting the door momentarily, Taruru found that there simply wasn't a room behind it. The gap between the door and the frame revealed only the rest of the wall surrounding it.

Taruru was sick of this. Now someone – or some_thing_ – whatever was the cause for this was denying him any means of escape? Taruru felt more than hopeless. How long was this going to last? What was he supposed to do? Was he going to _die_ or something?

"Private first class"

Hearing the familiar tone brought a huge wave of relief over him, but regardless, he turned and saluted to his platoon leader.

"Sir, yes sir!"

The imposing older frog simply stared him down for a few moments, as if trying to work out what was troubling the normally bubbly younger member of the platoon.

"Chief Medic Pururu tells me that your nightmares and hallucinations are becoming much worse; to the point where they are causing your mental state to deteriorate. She said you were utterly convinced that there was a fifth member to the platoon" He enquired, watching Taruru carefully.

"You don't remember Tororo either, do you sir?" Taruru sighed sadly "I was just about to ask you if I would be allowed to take some sick leave for a while – just so my mind can sort itself out"

"What are you scared of?"

The question was worded so strangely; the tone so peculiar, that Taruru stared his leader in the eye in confusion. He looked down again and went over what he was scared of. He was mainly scared of his own mind, it seemed, and Pururu just couldn't help him now. Didn't she tell their leader this information?

"Sir I-"

"There's no need to be afraid, Taruru. No-one's going to hurt you"

Taruru backed away from his leader ever so slightly. There wasn't a hint of irony in his voice, but again, his tone was unusual, almost predatory sounding. And why hadn't he called him by his rank; but his first name? They weren't particularly points to be _that_ scared about, but the wording, combined with the tone and that frankly terrifying look on his face, was very intimidating indeed.

"I know… I trust you" Taruru said quietly, the end of the sentence almost feeling like a question. Did he really trust his captain? He was leaning more and more towards the 'no' option as the smirk on his leaders face grew a small amount.

"That is good. You should rest, Taruru. You'll need all the sleep you can get" was the quiet, very challenging reply from the lieutenant before he spun on his heel and walked in the opposite direction.

Taruru swallowed, flicking trials of cold sweat from off is forehead. There was something very, very wrong with his leader, but there was no way he was going to say anything about it. Not right now, anyway.

Instead, he decided to look for Zoruru again. He realised now that the only time he had felt safe through this whole ordeal was when Zoruru was nearby. Zoruru was a bad-ass, super stealthy cyborg. How could he _not_ feel safe around him?

Smiling slightly at this newfound source of protection, he made his way fairly jovially throughout the halls of the ship before coming upon the hallway that normally would have lead past Tororo's door and into the hall containing Zoruru's room.

Holding back a gasp of surprise, his eyes widened at the sight of Tororo's door, right where it belonged, the symbol painted on it and all. Relieved tears pooled at the corners of Taruru's eyes as he began to slowly approach the door, smiling even wider as he heard the unmistakable sounds of power tools, and the faint humming of computer monitors. Maybe he'd just woken from another bad dream, and he'd been sleepwalking through it. Quite frankly, he didn't care – he wasn't insane, Tororo WAS a real person!

Pushing the door open, the large goofy grin fell slightly as he attempted to work out what exactly he was seeing.

Tororo was in there all right – but he wasn't working on any of the machines. He was clipped to a large, complicated looking slab of machinery, restrained from any and all movement by large, steel shackles. He seemed scared, but was unable to do anything but whimper thanks to the very tight shackle secured around his neck. There was only a single light hanging in the room, and it shone dimly right over where Tororo was trapped.

Hearing the sound of movement, Taruru ducked out of the way, quite easily finding a hiding spot behind several shards of broken machinery. Walking in to view was none other than Zoruru. However, something about the atmosphere in the room, and the look of sheer terror that passed over Tororo's face when he made his appearance prevented Taruru from revealing himself and approaching them.

He watched silently as Zoruru fumbled around in various piles of equipment on the desk before finding a small tin of what appeared the be powdered charcoal. Swiping his thumb through it, he carefully and precisely drew a line directly down the centre of Tororo's body, starting at the top of the head and ending at the bottom of his pelvis. Taruru had a vague idea what was going to happen next, but he prayed that he was wrong.

"I apologise, Tororo" Zoruru hissed quietly, almost gently, to Tororo. Taruru listened extra carefully, as he couldn't hear too well from his current position, and he'd be damned if he moved.

"It's really nothing personal. You were just the easiest to subdue"

The tadpole whimpered, and Zoruru leaned back slightly, folding his arms.

"It certainly is convenient that we're all the same dimensions, isn't it? You taught me that"

Hot tears started pouring from Tororo's eyes, and Taruru felt a vicious tug at the sight, felt a large compulsion to help him, but he was afraid of making things much worse – whatever was happening.

"I just can't take it anymore, you know. I'm sure you understand. If it wasn't for you, after all, I wouldn't be here right now… you really have taught me a lot, Tororo, and know that I do appreciate everything you've done, but I just have to do this"

There was a piercing 'shink' sound as the cyborg unsheathed the pristine blade from within his mechanical arm. As he lined it up above Tororo's head, Taruru absolutely knew what was going to happen, and at the same time knew it was too late to act.

"I just want to be whole again" was the last whisper, before the blade was brought down, quickly and cleanly slicing the young hacker in half, not even allowing the poor boy to scream. Taruru covered his own mouth and thought about sneaking to the exit, but the fear of being caught and his own morbid curiosity kept him pinned to the spot.

He watched in frozen horror as Zoruru dragged both halves of Tororo's remains to a table, and performed a very long, arduous, _impossible_ operation which involved taking off his entire metal half and trading it with Tororo's left side.

By the end of the horrific ordeal, there stood Zoruru, completely alive and well with his new, mismatched organic left side, fusing the last parts of his metal side to what was left of Tororo's cleaved corpse.

In a strange, mutilated tone of voice that was unrecognisable as Zoruru _or _Tororo, the former cyborg whispered something about not wishing death upon anyone, and used a large machine to send thunderous jolts of electricity through Tororo's half mechanical corpse, somehow causing him to regain consciousness and return to life, almost like some twisted version of Frankenstein's monster.

The young, new cyborg lifted himself from the table and surveyed his surrounding's in confusion, the tiny, red cybernetic eye implanted into an empty eye socket surveyed the room for a few moments before looking upon his mismatched 'creator'

"It's over now, Tororo, it's okay" came the quiet, distorted vocalisation from the freakish mutant that used to be Zoruru.

Taruru could only stand a few minutes of watching Tororo observe what had happened to him in horror and despair for a few moments before he had had enough and silently evacuated the room.

Closing the door behind him, he blinked, and was now on the floor in his room, apparently having fallen from his bed. He looked around for a while, before allowing himself to relax. So he HAD had another dream. He didn't allow himself any real relief however, as he quickly got up and darted from the room, not noticing that there were now two familiar looking mannequins positioned right behind where his door met the wall.

He ran as fast as he could down the halls. Tororo's room was gone again. He kept running, and let out a dry sob at what he saw.

Zoruru's door was gone, too.

**A/N**

**Daaaaaaaaaaaayum this was typed up quickly. I'm so happy, my head was just CRAMMED with inspiration, and I genuinely had quite a bit of motivation to do this too!**

**IF any of you have good memories and have been following not only my literature but also my art, you will notice that the plot to this episode is actually based on a strange, recurring sort of 'plot daydream' I kept having that I first illustrated and spoke about last year (thought the idea was one I'd had for a long while before then) in the description of an image called 'Delerium', which you can find on my DA page (linked on my profile)**

**So I thought 'Welp, I'm doing a horror story, might as well drop it in and see how it goes' XD**

**Just so you know, this fic prolly won't really be that long, but it might get finished faster than my other fictions (ie actually get finished, like FBOFW from back in the day XD)**

**Hope you like dis :3**


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